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Friday, 31 August 2012

Now I don't consider myself a fuddy-duddy, but some days I feel forced to ask “What is happening with the
youth of today?”.

I was listening to 5fm the other
day (my absolute fave radio station) and DJ Fresh was doing an interview with
some or other Boy Band – for the life of me, I can’t remember who they
were. And 5fm is forever running
competitions, so during one part of the show, Fresh had outside callers pitted
against the Boy Band and what they had to do was quite challenging, I thought –
well at least for me.There were going
to play them a short snippet of a song by another boy band, and they had to
guess the title of the song as well as the band performing it.Now I thought, that this might be difficult
for me, especially as I’m not so clued up on boy bands myself.And I do always like to “play along” in the
car, guessing the answers – working out in my head, exactly what I’m going to
do with the money that I would “win” or how awesome that free hamper or CD I
never even knew I wanted would be.

So
they played the first snippet, and even I knew who it was. Imagine that – Back
Street Boys (seriously who thinks up these names?).Then they played some arb song by some arb
band that I had never even heard of and both the Boy Band and the radio caller
knew the answer.I was a bit bummed that
I would not be “winning” on that particular day, and I was pretty convinced
that I would not know the next answer either.

Until…….they played “Yesterday” –
a song made world famous by the biggest, bestest, brightest, brilliantest Boy
Band of all time – The Beatles.And
would you friggin believe it, neither the Boy Band in the studio nor the radio
caller knew the answer.I could hear in
his voice, that Fresh, was truly stumped.He committed that most awful of crimes amongst DJ’s – stunned
silence.No white noise.No black noise.No nothing.Not even static.Just
silence.He was clearly floored.As was I.Was this even possible?I know
I’m a bit of a music snob, but how can one be a citizen of the world and not
know “Yesterday” or The Beatles for that matter?Did these people perhaps hatch from eggs and
grow up in an isolated bubble or were they merely raised by wolves? Please believe me, when I say that I mean no offense
to wolves anywhere. I'm sure they would flog their young for making similiar mistakes.

I’m thinking that a ritual
stoning might be in order.If we make an
example of these people, it might bear fruit in the future.

My one and only foray into
overseas travel took me to China about 5 years ago.They don’t mess around.They have loudspeakers on all public grounds,
places and spaces, blaring communist propaganda for all to hear, eat, live and
breathe.They play it over the intercoms
in trains and tubes.And there are
pamphlets and leaflets all around – please do help yourself.And how successful is it not?One of the biggest nations in the world –
with not much freedom awarded to its people, yet they’re quite happy to simply
move forward, not questioning the status quo.I mean how much protest movement is there in China?Right, that would be zero.

Is this not perhaps an avenue of
education that we should investigate in South Africa?If we perhaps got someone really
inspirational, like Riaan Cruywagen–
you know someone in touch with the youth – to record messages educating the
youth, maybe then they would not make blunders like this?Just imagine what we could teach them?The possibilities are limitless.Stuff like the following:

-How to pull your outer pants up over your inner
pants – so that your boxers are not on show for the world.

-Perhaps a short course on “Separating your cell
phone from your hand”.

-An introductory course on “How to make eye
contact with adults”.

-This can be followed up with the advanced course
“Responding to adults by using more than one word sentences”.

-“Changing the loo roll in the bathroom”.

-“Clothes – they don’t actually make it from the
bedroom floor to the washing basket on their own” – this course will include a
slide presentation.

-The importance of tying your shoelaces even when
you’re wearing “yo-yo-homeboy takkies/sneakers” – so you don’t trip over them
and fall flat on your face.

I mean, just think about it.The sky is the limit.Perhaps the proper route to follow, would be
to add subliminal messages to the music that they’re already listening to?They all pretty much seem to have earphones
sprouting out of their ears.And correct
me if I’m wrong, because I think this is true for most of us - I can remember
song lyrics from my teens, but not what I learnt in History in Grade 9.Does anyone else see a pattern here.Music surely is the most powerful teaching
tool, especially with the youth.And who
says propaganda is dead and gone?Preposterous, I tell you.

Why if we followed this route, I
suspect there would never even be a textbook crises, the likes of which we’re
seeing at the moment.And to add extra
enticement and to ensure that our “message” is reaching the masses, I know
exactly what we should do.Illegal
downloads over the Internet!Now am I
clever or what?Why a new song by
someone like 50Cent can spread like wild fire within days, by mere downloads
alone.

This is clearly the way
forward.We shall educate the
youth.One illegally downloaded song,
filled with subliminal teachings at a time.Slowly catch a monkey.

Thursday, 30 August 2012

Without a shadow of a doubt, I am
by far, the luckiest person that I know.Why on a daily basis, I win on average at least 3 Lotto’s!

To date I’ve won the Swiss Lotto,
American Lotto, UK Lotto (that one was a biggie!), Australian Lotto and
Nigerian Lotto (didn’t even know they had one), but to name a few.I think it takes quite a while to wrap up all
the paperwork, because despite winning my first Lotto years and years ago, the
money is still not reflecting in my account.But it’s okay.I’m kind of
patient.I’ll just carry on checking my
account a few times a day.Any minute
now…..

I am a bit disappointed though,
that I never got to pose for a photo with one of those monster big fake cheques
made out in my name, with all of those zero’s at the end.Would look way cool, up in my house.A true keepsake.Come to think of it though, I don’t even
recall buying tickets for these Lotto’s.Wow, I really must start paying more attention when I’m busy clicking
buttons on the computer.There’s no
telling what I can do and one has to be so careful these days.Apparently there are so many scams out
there.To date, I’m very lucky that I
have not fallen prey to one of these.But then again, I am pretty shrewd and tuned in to stuff like this.Not so easy to pull a fast one over me.

But wait, it gets better, my luck
does not only run to Lotto winnings.No
sirree, Bob.Why, random strangers are
forever depositing money for me into accounts I didn’t even know that I
had.I mean how AWESOME is that???Let’s just take a moment to ponder this.Not only don’t I have a bank account at the
HSBC Bank in Hong Kong, but some kind philanthropic do-gooder has shared a huge
lump load of cash with me into said bank account.Incredible, hey?Now if only I could find those non-existent
banking details.I will not admit
defeat.I will not give up.I will not surrender.I will be victorious and claim my money.Is it not perhaps
possible that I maybe had a sleep-walking type of moment?And in the middle of the night in my
somnolent state, I got on the old telephone and internet, and hooked myself up
to the HSBC?It might even be worth my
while to attempt hypnotherapy so that I can try and recall those account
numbers and my pins.It would be
sacrilege for that money to just lie there.In the interim I’m soothing myself with the knowledge of the huge amount
of interest I’m surely earning.Isn’t
the banking world just great?

And the gift-giving doesn’t just
stop there.Even giant multi-nationals
are getting in on the action.Pepsi,
yip, you heard me, Pepsi wants to give me money.Quite bizarre, given the fact that I
absolutely abhor the flavour of Pepsi.It tastes like a Coke-wanna-be to me.Maybe they are hoping to win me over?And I must say, they have got the right approach.Spot on!For the amount of money, they’re offering me, I will definitely promote
their brand.And I’m quite convinced
that if I chucked the Pepsi out of the bottle and poured some Coke inside
instead, nobody would be able to tell the difference from mere looks alone.

Now one that did rather surprise
even me, was the e-mail that I received from the Estate of the late president
of Ghana, John Eveans.When I googled
him, I found out that he was a stand-up comedian in Tulsa, Oklahoma.He obviously used to fit his comedy gigs in
when he was over on diplomatic visits.Very impressive if you ask me.Why, the schedule this poor man must have kept.What with his responsibilities as commander
in chief of his country during the day, making important phone calls to fellow
world leaders, making policy decisions, guiding the country on the road to
economic freedom and prosperity.The
commitment that he showed in supplementing his income with his night job is
truly remarkable.It was extremely
thoughtful of him to bequeath quite a few million dollars to me.And truth be told, who even knew that Ghana
had so much money?Their oil fields must
be doing splendidly indeed.In fact
watch out Arab world – the next world superpower is going to be Ghana, what
with their oil riches and all.

Given my rather less that astute
grasp of economics, I must say that the request from the International Monetary
Fund to use my bank account was rather peculiar.But big up to them, for trusting their
precious gazillions to me.They are the
International Monetary Fund for goodness sakes.So who am I to refuse them?If they
say they need my account, it must surely be so.Far be it from me to question them.

Even Bill Gates and Microsoft
want to give me money.So chuffed.And seeing as Bill and I are now on a
comfortable e-mail footing with each other, I think I’ll drop him a quick mail,
asking him to help me with some of my Windows problems.It really annoys me when I try and paste a
picture into Word and it won’t let me resize the pic or move it around.Sure he’ll give me a hand.And not to be outdone by the competition,
Apple Mac is also stepping up to the plate, and the amount of i-Phones, i-Pads
and i-Pods that Apple are willing to give to me, is enough to supply me with
Christmas presents for my family for years.What a bonus!!!

Amazingly enough though, some
people can be very short sighted and vindictive, not seeing the bigger
picture.I have this dude called, Snowy
Smith, who keeps on pestering me with e-mail requests to boycott Barclays Bank.I absolutely refuse.I don’t even know what his beef is with
Barclays Bank?Perhaps they made him in
stand in queues at the tellers for hours on end.Or they never gave him enough £10
notes when he wanted to change a £100.But, jeez dude.Enough
already.I suppose I’ll just humour him
and make him think that I’ll also boycott them.How would he know that I don’t even have a
Barclays Bank account?Or the South
African equivalent – an FNB account either?

Anyway, enough jibber jabber for
one day.Quickly want to check my Bank
Account one last time today.You never
know.Today might just be my lucky
day.Hope springs eternal and all that.And I must quickly confirm my appointment
with Madame Lyubitshka for my hypnosis session tomorrow morning.Really hope that I find her caravan
easily.Perhaps I should just follow the
light?

Wednesday, 29 August 2012

I have a deep, dark secret.One that fills me with equal portions of
dread and shame.In fact it is so bad,
it’s along the lines of “I see dead people”.Except that that, is absolutely nothing compared to the horror that I
have to live with on a daily basis.So
here we go.Confession time…

I kill plants.

Now wait, don’t laugh.I’m deadly serious.This is no joking matter. And if you knew my family, you would understand.Every single one of them has been blessed
with an abundance of green fingers, which leads me to believe that collectively
they might even have received my share too.And this gift is not merely limited to the womenfolk in my family either.The men are equally prolific greenies - my
uncles, grandfather, step-dad, heck even my step-grandfather has the whole
growing thing going for them.My 5 year
old niece, Honey, is better at growing plants than I am.Most of them could stick a piece of plywood
or even a pencil in the ground and within a very short period of time, it would
be sprouting, indeed flowering and bearing edible fruits, I’m sure.

But please, don’t judge me too
harshly.It is never my intention to
kill them, it’s more of a by-product.Initially I get all excited about my next green victim and then I go
through a process of over watering them and drowning them in the process.Once I’ve realised that I’ve made the same
mistake yet again, I go through a process of not watering them enough.I wouldn’t be surprised if my plants commit
suicide rather than face the whole drowning/parched/over-watering/intense
thirst thing.

What make it even worse, is the
fact that I really like plants. It's nothing personal - I swear. They
create such ambience in a garden and home.I greatly admire plants and envy the ability of the lucky few that
can grow them.Unfortunately, I'm just not one of the lucky few.

And my beloved Ouma Helene has
just given me a beautiful pot of Lachenalia’s – I feel sorry for them
already.I will try my best, I really
will.But I’m not filled with
optimism.The odd green thing in my
garden, is there despite me.It’s those
blasted plants that won’t admit defeat and good on them.The die-hard types, that look after
themselves.For all I know, they might
actually be weeds.I don’t really mind.If they’re brave enough to live with me and
survive, they’ve got incredible stamina and a phenomenal will to live.

My forays in to horticulture,
read like a horror story.How to put the
fear of God into Horticulture students?Show them the pics of what I can do to plants, given a very short period
of time.Enough to give them nightmares,
making them wake up in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat, screaming –
“Just don’t water them again.Enough!Enough!Enough!I can only take so much”.Alternated
by – “Parched, absolutely parched.My
tongue is sticking to my pallet.My
kingdom for a drop of water.Can’t you
hear the plants screaming?”.They’d band
together, signing petitions, marching on to Stodels, and giving a list of their
demands to the Plant Police.

Can you imagine what poor Prince
Charles would do, if he was to know what I did.It would make him run to Mummy in horror, exclaiming “Off with her
head”, I’m sure!

A few years ago, two friends gave
me plants for my birthday.It was like a
death sentence for those poor plants.Mere weeks later they were terminal and within a month they had
perished.Now, I’m not saying that
plants can talk or that they can’t talk, but if mine could, they’d be begging
for Euthanasia.

Exibit A - Birthday loot, including 2 plants. The big bunch in the middle is from my mom and is fake. Shame she has learnt the hard way. Note the date - 13/01/08. Perfectly healthy beautiful plants. Very much alive.

Exibit B - Birthday loot. Note the date - 13/02/08. Just one month later. It was a very long, protracted death. The end was merciful - for both of us. I prefer to not dwell on this one, as I had "grown" rather attached to my roses.

Exibit C - My latest victim. I shall show true kindness to this one, as I do to all of the others. Anyway, must dash, quickly want to go and water it.

Tuesday, 28 August 2012

Grant and I have this absolutely
AWESOME game that we play.It’s called
“The Blame Game” and it is just sooo much fun.

This is how it works.Firstly you have to understand that the game
only works if you have kids.And the
more kids you have, the better.It sort
of ups your odds on winning.The object
of the game, is to blame any “deficiencies” or “shortcomings” in your children on
your partner, leaving yourself lilywhite by comparison.

So this is kind of our
score.

If any of our kids have bad
eyesight – it’s definitely my fault.Happy to admit that one – it is biological and mere genetics after all –
I won’t take it personally.

Athleticism is Grant’s fault – I
have been stuck with those blasted two left feet and zero ball skills (my
mother and father’s fault – thanx guys) – so if the kids are awesome at sport,
it’s Grant’s ‘fault’.

Lack of athleticism – enough
said, or should I rather say “Aye”.In high
school I played Netball for the 7th team, and that was only because
they didn’t have an 8th team.I was always the last to get picked in PT for teams – the dud nobody
wanted to get stuck with.And I really
can’t blame them, I seriously suck at sport.

Bandy legs – Grant.

Knock knees – Moi!

Musical ability – definitely my genes.Rock on!

A love for reading books with
pictures – Grant’s favourite literature is Asterix and Obelix – is it any
surprise that Luke is comic mad then?

Scholastic skills and intellectual brilliance – this one
makes me laugh out loud every time.Grant seems to think that of the two of us, I’m the rocket scientist in
the family.If only he knew.Ha-Ha-Ha.I’m as thick as a brick, but that’s my secret.Please don’t tell him, it will ruin my
mystique.

Love of 80’s music – this is all
Grant’s fault.I completely blame him
for forcing it down all of our throats.Shame it got stuck on poor Amber-Berry and she is now the biggest
Depeche Mode fan.Quite odd for a 10
year old, I think.Now the 80’s weren’t
all bad – I mean it gave us The Police and U2.But let’s face it – The Pet Shop boys were like a big brain burp.Best forgotten.Okay, okay so Grant doesn’t like the Pet Shop
Boys either, but his decade is to blame for their existence.So in my opinion at least, it definitely
makes him complicit.

Love of the TV and channel
surfing – this is defo Grant’s fault.Amber is the queen of the remote - when she manages to prise if out of
Grant’s hand.

Any nerdy tendencies in the kids
– I get blamed for this and rightly so.I mean, could I possibly have been a bigger dork at school???You have no idea – Library Prefect, Drama
Club, Choir, Piano, Honorary colours for music, etc.Basically if any nerdy activity was being
presented, chances were, I was there doing it.And I had the whole look down pat too, right down to the spectacles I wore.Still not entirely sure what the initial
attraction was for Grant at all.I’m
assuming that after he met me, my “sparkling” personality won him over.

Rebellious, naughty, mischievous
– this is so my Grantie.I was a
goodie-two-shoes remember.Far too wimpy
to rock the boat.Rebellious, naughty,
mischievous kids take after him.

Blissful ignorance relating to
Geography – so far, so good.I think
this might have skipped my kids.My
grandchildren will have to blame me for this one day.

Reasoning and logic.I seriously rock at this.I can remain calm, stay focused, find a
solution for a problem and fix it.Grant
on the other hand does a fair bit of flailing – I actually think that he has a
flair for the dramatics.Not being able
to find an empty parking spot at the Mall sends him into a tailspin.

Quirky – whenever our kids do
funny, quirky things – Grant just shakes his head and says “Those are your
children for sure”.And I must be honest
– damn proud of it.

Premature balding – do I have to
go any further?

Small feet – yip, that’s me.

Olive complexion – Grant can wax
lyrical about my skin.Really odd.He also has a thing for my shoulders –
weirdo.Apparently they’re nicely
rounded and not bony like his – meanie!!!It could just be his gentle way of saying I’m, shall we say, ‘fleshy’.

Dramatic – ironically, contrary
to popular belief and despite my membership of the Drama Club at school, this
is entirely Grant – please refer to crises of no empty parking spot above.

Fascination with cars, Rugby,
Formula One, basically any boys stuff – Grant and Cole are like two peas in a
pod – twins, a generation apart.

Lack of concentration skills – no
way am I taking the blame for this one.Have I mentioned yet that ADD is hereditary?Grant meets all of the requirements, and I’m
investigating the Ritalin route for him.

Creativity – that would be me.

Puzzles – Grant simply does not
have the concentration span to do a puzzle.It’s just far too passive for him.Ironically all of the kids like puzzles.

Fire making and general practical
boy abilities – this is all Grant and he’s taught our boys well.

Deep love of animals – I love
animals, I really do, but Grant is way more animal batty than me.At one stage all of us were a bit jealous of
the amount of time and affection he gave our pet squirrel.Amber and Cole also really do the animal
thing big time.If Amber doesn’t get
married one day, she’ll be one of those weird animal ladies with a multitude of
animals - cats, dogs, chickens, birds,
etc. roaming freely in her home.Cole
cries when he sees any animal cruelty anywhere – such a softy.If they show a dodgy animal scene on TV, we
quickly change the channel.

Night owls – personally I think
that sleeping is a huge waste of time.Now,
I’m not saying I don’t like it, because I do love sleeping.And few things are nicer than an afternoon
nap.But one can just get so much more
done in a day if you don’t sleep a lot.And
bear in mind, I’m so scared I miss out on something exciting if I go to bed
early.Grant can quite happily go to bed
very early, whereas the kids and I just love being busy doing stuff.Not that the kids have any choice in the
matter during the week.I simply don’t
want to see them after 8pm.I go to the
dark side if they’re still under my feet then.Not a pretty sight.

An inherent grasp of technology –
I am blissfully unaware of how stuff works and to be honest, ignorance is truly
bliss.So when it comes to understanding
technical stuff – Grant is for sure to blame.

Adventurous eating and love of
burny food – yet again Grant – he’ll try anything at least once.Cole is also like this.Absolutely fearless.A bit of a worrying habit actually.

Cheekiness – naturally I don’t
know what this is, but I’m sure that little old me would never be guilty of
this.

Love of dancing – this is sooo
me, never mind my two left feet.And ironically,
even though Grant is very athletic, when it comes to dancing he also has two
left feet.So we’re a perfectly mismatched
pair.But despite the fact that I tend
to look slightly spastic when I dance, I absolutely love it.And Amber and Cole both dig dancing big
time.Amber does Modern Dancing as well
as Latin and she has loads of her own very unique Amber-type moves too.Cole on the other hand – Michael Jackson’s
death and the resulting TV footage made a huge impression on him.Pelvic thrusts and groping of his gonads are
the order of the day.

But all in all, Grant and I both
think that our children are gorgeous, intelligent, talented, quirky, cute,
precious, unique, etc. – the whole enchilada.In fact, we both like to lay claim to all of their good attributes and
qualities.It’s fabulous seeing bits of
yourself in your kids – especially when it’s the good bits.And most times, I simply burst with pride
that they’re mine.But on those “rare”
occasions that they do something that I don’t like, they’re definitely the
spawn of Grant…

Monday, 27 August 2012

So my dad would have been 60
years old today.I still find it hard to
believe that he died 13 and a half years ago.I
didn’t really think it was possible, even for cancer to stop him and was
convinced right until the end that he would fluke death.And for the longest time after his death, it
felt like he was just away on a long tour with the Blues Broers. Bit of a coping mechanism, I think.

I somehow don’t think he would
have aged gracefully though.Oh, he
would’ve looked way cool, with the whole distinguished grey hair thing, I don’t
mean that.What I mean is that he would
still only have been a big kid in an adult’s body.He never lost the ability to get excited,
even over silly things.At 46 when he
died, Zoo biscuits were still his favourite treat.And my mom always said that he was her eldest
child, not me.

I miss hearing his deep voice, the sound of his laughter and
getting an awesome hug from him – he was really good at giving those.And one of my greatest regrets is the fact
that he never got to know my kids.He
had the joy of Luke as a baby, but he never got to see the person he’s
become.I remember being so miffed with
him after Amber was born, because he wasn’t around to see her.And in fact his death really hit me hard then
– nearly 3 years after the event.

But how blessed are we not?We have the proof of his creativity all
around us.We are all blessed with beautiful
paintings, sketches and even the odd sculpture – I have the most beautiful
wooden carving he did of my mom when she was about 9 months pregnant with
me.So special.We have CD’s, where his drumming talent is
just so there for all to hear.We have poignant
home videos that make me cry whenever I watch them, and sometimes laugh out
loud.We have lots and lots of photos
and even slides – luckily for us, quite a few members of the clan like taking photos
and filming of home movies.The memory
of the man, father, musician and fun person that he was, will always linger.

Every morning, I see him in the
mirror, because I’ve got his eyes and his olive complexion.Deeply grateful for both of those.I also see lots of him in my brother and
sister and even in my kids. Mannerisms,
habits and physical traits.His legacy
will live on.

This morning, I told the kids
that Oupa Frank would’ve been 60 today.And without missing a beat, Amber asked if we were going to get a cake
for his birthday.Of course, yes!We get one every year and celebrate his
birthday.Amber said that she wouldn’t
want him to think that we’ve forgotten about him and don’t care about him.“It’s not like he’s dead to us, you know”,
she said.And she’s so right.In my heart he’ll live forever.

Which brings me to Amber’s take
on his death when she was little.She
has a marvellous imagination – I think it’s my fault, because I suppose, I have
one too.We were speaking about him
once, as we do so often and Amber piped up saying “Oupa Frank died cauthe a thark
ate him" (she had the cutest little lisp).Ermmm…..Really?This was indeed
news to me.We sort of left it at that,
because she seemed so chuffed with the knowledge and we were so taken aback
with her little tale, that once the laughter died down, we sort of lost the
moment to correct it.And then a few
weeks later, yet again in conversation she said that “Oupa Frank died, becauthe
he fell in the pool, and then a thark ate him”.It truly was most peculiar.We
tried persuading her that her take on events was not quite accurate, but have
you ever tried reasoning with a three year old?
In her opinion at least, her story was so much more exciting. She would not budge.And still
later, it changed too “Oupa Frank, was moking (she couldn’t say smoking), and
then he fell in the pool and a thark ate him”.And finally a few weeks down the line it turned into “Oupa Frank got
thick (no, not fat – sick – it’s the lisp again), because he was moking, then
he fell in the pool and a thark ate him”.Years down the line, it has become a family joke of sorts and we’re
still not sure where the whole shark story comes from.And let’s be honest, it was not a good story
line from Amber – where do you get sharks in a pool?I mean had she said that he got “thick from
moking and fell in the thea and then a thark ate him”, it would have been way
more believable.In fact perhaps even
plausible, if you overlook the fact that he almost never swam in the sea.

Anyway, I have bought our cake
for tonight for after our supper.I’ve
even got candles and I think I shall have to go and get some zoo biscuits too.

I just bet he’s going to have an
awesome party tonight wherever he is.Jamming with Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan.They’ll have a couple of beers, perhaps a
shooter or two, light up a smoke (his beloved Gauloises Plains), sit around chatting and then start
playing.Oh, but to be a fly on the
wall.

Rest in rhythm Frankie-Baby. Absolutely convinced you're raising hell where ever you are, having a marvellous time. We’re still missing you long time.

Sunday, 26 August 2012

So we’re a month and a bit into
the blog, and I thought it was perhaps time to reflect.Looking back through my previous posts, it
appears as though I reflect and ponder quite a bit.Never realised that until now.

Simply loving the daily
writing.I’ve got a whole bunch load of
ideas for posts , so if you choose to check out the link every day or every so often, you'll be stuck with me for a while. I've still got lots and lots I'd like to write about. And I’m forever making little notes on my phone to remind
myself about something or other I’d like to add to the blog or “reflect” and
“ponder” about in a post.Looking back
through my previous posts, it appears as though I’m quite opinionated.Never realised that until now either.Please bear in mind that these “reflections”
and “ponderings” are the mere “ramblings” of a confused mind.

I’ve been struck by the very
unexpected growth of the blog.It does a
bit of a slow and steady growth thing, and then for some or other reason, I
have a particular blog that appeals to a whole bunch of people and then I have
a mushroom type of thing.But all in all
the daily numbers are growing – exponentially, I’d say.

And still the overseas viewership
tickles me.Now the UK, that I kind of
get.Why half of our South African brain
power, now resides in England.I reckon
you can’t walk 50m without tripping over a South African in London.A rip roaring trade is done in South African
products, with whole shops dedicated to stocking their shelves with good old
South African fare like Mrs Ball’s Chutney, Ouma’s Rusks and Castle Lager.

America is a monstrously big
country and hits from there were sure to happen, I suppose.And I’ve had nearly a thousand to date.

My Russian audience has grown
from a solid 3 new views per day, to about 9 per day now.Wonder who they are?Are they expats?Can they even speak English?Or is there simply a daily increase in
Russians, who accidently click on my blog?I’m assuming that they’re ladies, so are their names Natalya, Svetlana,
Natasha, Tatiana, Ekaterina, Annastasia, Olysia, Elena and Oksana?I wonder if they drink “Water – the
alcoholic drink made with vodka and water”?All I can say is Nostarovia, ladies!

The Middle East is also
growing.With a real stalwart of support
being the United Arab Emirates.“Hello
Anthea, in Dubai!”.I reckon it’s so hot
there all the time, that people do quite a bit of surfing the net indoors,
parking under their aircons. I imagine that the old
fashioned way of surfing is probably not an option, unless you don’t mind
getting burnt to a crisp and incurring skin cancer in the process.

As far as the Far East, is
concerned, Thailand has come on board all of a sudden.And I get the odd view from Hong Kong, China
and South Korea.And finally, at long
last, I’ve got a hit from Japan.Woohooo!!!I can categorically state
that I don’t know a single soul in Thailand, Hong Kong, Japan or South
Korea.I know 3 people in China, and I’m
100% sure that they’re not reading it.Two of those are guys, and I don’t think the blog is really a guy thing
and the 3rd person is Chinese, so I guess that sorts that out, what
with the language barrier and all.Now
Taiwan, ironically, that I can understand.My best friend from school days, Maryke’s brother works and lives there
and I think that Jaco is a firm fan, checking out the blog every so often.So all I can say to that is “Hallo, Jaco!Hoop dit gaan goed met jou!”.

Europe is coming along nicely as
well, with France, Belgium, The Netherlands, Switzerland and Germany being the
biggest ones.Me-thinks the Netherlands
is John Frick.“Howzit, John! Hope you’re
well!”.And a big up to Greg, Kyle and
Joshua Snyman in Kloten in Switzerland.I don’t
know a friggin soul in Belgium or Germany, so that one’s a mystery to me.Have one very long shot contact in France,
but it’s probably just strangers as well.

I’ve even had a few hits from Ireland.And I have a mystical attachment to Ireland
for reasons unknown, even to me.I
really do hope that someone’s Mammy is reading the blog and they’re sharing it
with their Da as well.

Luke is holding thumbs that the
views from Portugal are from Cristiano Ronaldo and that an opportunity to meet
him in person is eminent.Shame, the boy
is going to cost me a fortune in therapy later on.It appears that he lives a bit in
Lala-land.Can’t imagine where he gets
that from?

Jamaica – it can clearly only be
Usain Bolt.It stands to reason.Did I not quote his name in a blog called “The
Omitted Olympic Events”?I actually
think he might be the type of guy that Googles his own name, just to see how
many sites are dedicated to his unparalleled brilliance.And to be honest, who can blame him.The man is an athletic genius.

And as far as “down-under” goes, “Hello,
Kathy!Hope you and Stu are well”.“Hello Sharon and Henk!Hope you’re enjoying life on the farm”.And “Hello Fiona, Mark and boys”.

My views from Gibraltar are
really surprising.As mentioned before,
I really suck at Geography.I thought
that the only thing in Gibraltar was a rock???

I would like to end off today’s
post with yet another “ponder”, “reflection” as well as a little “ramble”
thrown in as well.In order to
facilitate my education in the mysterious field of Geography, it would perhaps
be pertinent that I visit all of these various countries.And would it not be doubly productive if I got
to meet my “fan base” at the same time?Perhaps do a little bit of a meet and greet with my “blog viewers”?

However, chances are more than
likely that “my people from overseas” are actually “my former South African
people (named Jan, Piet, Anna and Sanna), now residing in other countries”, in which case, I really think that
they should do the hospitable South African thing which we are so famous for
and invite me over.It’ll be a bit like
having a taste from home, having a fellow South African visiting them.How nice would that not be for me?Not so sure how it would work out for them,
but for me it would be bliss.So how’s
about it?

Saturday, 25 August 2012

Some things in life don’t
change.And thank goodness for these
constants.They add safety and stability
and give us a sense of “all-is-well-with-the-world”.

But what to do, if one of these
constants unexpectedly changes?How to
cope?What a terrible feeling of
“not-rightness” we experience.Just
imagine a world where we could not count on the following things:

Riaan Cruywagen’s hair – if he ever changed his hairstyle, I fear that the country might come to a standstill.

Johan Stemmet’s loud shirts – just imagine if he ever got a personal stylist, who convinced him to turf his hideous shirts – Noot vir Noot would come to a grinding halt.

Naas Botha’s accent – he just says “wiff” so beautifully, and let’s not forget his other famous saying “on de udder hand, Darren”.

The colourful names of the colourful people in our country – names like Chevonne and Tyrese – I simply love it!

Escalating petrol prices – it is expected after all.

Cashiers talking to each other,
and ignoring you when you’re trying to pay for your groceries.

The never ending yearning I have for another baby - I don't think it will ever go away and I will always have a little hole in my heart because of it.

Justin Bieber’s hair flopping about.

Hugh Grant’s hair flopping about.

Grant’s hair flopping about – I wish…

A new James Bond movie always
being on the horizon.

The chicken song being played at
weddings – and everyone doing flappy arm movements, looking like idiots.

A bride making a fashionably late
entrance at her own wedding.

Getting toothache in the middle
of the night over a long weekend when it costs double to get to a dentist – if you
can even find one.

Yet another new season of
Survivor either being filmed or airing on TV – I just love it, and if I wasn’t
married already, I’d track Jeff Probst down and make an honest man of him.

Having no hot water when you’re
the last in the family to hit the shower.

Kids asking “are we there yet?”
on a long car journey – and sometimes even on a short one.

The cakes I bake not being very
successful and looking alarmingly flat.

Reruns of Chuck Norris and Steven
Seagal movies on Sunday nights on Etv.

Ellen DeGeneres dancing on her
show.

Usain Bolt hamming it up for the
camera’s – how much self-confidence does that dude have?

Jacob Zuma getting married again.

Jacob Zuma fathering children
again.

Puzzle pieces miraculously going
missing from the sealed box.

Being swamped with smiling street
vendors when you stop at a robot - trying to sell you cellphone chargers and
wire beaded creations.

The slightly toothless or alternatively
bejewelled smiles you get from the friendly staff at KFC.

The Stig not showing his face.

Angelina Jolie adopting babies.

Siblings bickering.

Road workers on never ending
lunch breaks.

Road works over the busiest
holidays of the year.

Boy bands lip syncing their “hits”.

Joan Rivers getting botox for her
lips.

Ozzy Osbourne slurring “Sharrrrooooonnn!!!”.

Politicians making empty promises
close to election time.

Cops on TV eating donuts.

Steve Hofmeyer songs blaring over
the loudspeaker system at Blue Bull games.

What would happen to my world if I
could not depend on the predictability of everything mentioned above?The world and life in general is a shifting,
never stationary, evolving cycle.And if
I didn’t have these constants in my life, I would not be able to cope with rest
of my world.

Friday, 24 August 2012

Some things are sacred.Some things you keep just for yourself.Some things are simply never meant to be
shared.

In fact, I think that sharing is
highly overrated.As children we are
taught to share and are berated by our parents and elders for not sharing.Is there not perhaps a point where this is
stretched to the limits?

Why should little Johnny share
his beloved toy car with his bratty younger brother, who will only get his
grubby little hands on it and in all likelihood break it?Is there even the vaguest chance that little Johnny’s
father will “share” his brand new car with the neighbour’s teenage son?Ba!Humbag!I tell you –
double-bloody-standards!

And as a parent myself, I’m also
always encouraging my kids to share.They have to share their sweets (mainly with me), their treats (mainly
with me), their toys and their prized possession (if these are sweets or
treats, also mainly with me).

But if there is one area, and one
area alone that is sacred and forbidden from sharing, it’s personal
hygiene.The thought of sharing a
toothbrush with somebody holds absolutely NO appeal.It’s unhygienic, unpleasant, unpalatable,
unsavoury, un-bloody-every-adjective-I-know.It’s just plain wrong.Now
mistakes do happen, and that I can live with.Many a time a wrong toothbrush is grabbed in haste, especially if you
have one of those electric toothbrushes and every member of the family just has
their own nozzle.Very easy to confuse,
or mistakenly take the wrong one, especially when you’re in a rush.And I have also been guilty of using someone
else’s toothbrush by accident.Even
though I wet my toothbrush before using it, I do like it to be dry when I start
the whole process of putting toothpaste on, because at least then I know that
it’s mine.If it’s wet, it means that
someone else has had a go.

I think in general mom’s cope far
better with accidents of this nature.But men – I don’t think so.They
can be particularly possessive over their toothbrush.

So one day, ever so casually,
Luke tells us that when one of Amber’s little friends slept over and they had
to go and brush their teeth before bedtime, said friend exclaimed that she had
never used an electric toothbrush before and would so badly like to try
it.And my darling little Amber-Berry,
being ever so thoughtful and considerate, naturally allowed her buddy to have a
go.After all, far be it from Amber to
deny a friend’s wish.And on this
occasion, the lucky winner of the “share-your-toothbrush” competition went
to………….Grant Cloete!!!

Looking at Grant, when Luke
shared this little gem was like witnessing an epileptic fit in motion.He was consumed by whole body convulsions and
contortions and kept on gagging.And me
being me, I absolutely loved it – at times it is just so much fun watching
others suffer.He immediately ran to the
bathroom at breakneck speed, rinsed his mouth, gargled, brushed his teeth (with
a normal old fashioned ‘manual’ toothbrush), rinsed again, gargled again,
brushed again, etc.The offending nozzle
got flung into the bin.

This was of course all
accompanied by a giant ear deafening roar of “AMBER!!!!!”.Amber was completely non-plussed as to what
all the fuss was about.I mean give her
her due - she was quite clever.She
never shared her toothbrush and let’s not forget, more importantly, she never
shared mine either.

Personally I’ve told Grant to get
over himself.By all accounts from what
we have heard, Amber’s little friend (who is an extremely regular visitor and
has even gone away on holiday with us and often stays for the weekend), is an
African Princess.Royal blood pumps
through her veins – her family hails from Kenya.I mean, if he had to share his toothbrush
with someone, at least he got to do it with a princess.Now fair is fair.If Grant got to share his toothbrush with a
princess, it would be most unfair if I was not offered the same opportunity.And with all things being equal, I would
simply not be able to settle for anything less than a prince.I’m thinking Harry…